


Once More Around the Sun

by ArtemisRayne



Series: May Look at a King - A Newsies Felisian AU [24]
Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Felisian, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Birthday, Birthday Party, Birthday Presents, Cat/Human Hybrids, Davey has a Secret Power, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Felisian!Boots, Felisian!Jack, Fluff, Friendship, Harvey the Bonsai Tree, Jack Is A Good Boyfriend, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 19:42:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20296912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisRayne/pseuds/ArtemisRayne
Summary: Davey has never really cared about birthdays. They're a lot less special when you have to share them with a twin, and besides, his always seems to fall right at the start of a school year. Birthdays have just never felt all that important.Jack, of course, believes very differently, and he's not about to let his boyfriend ignore his special day.





	Once More Around the Sun

With all of the excitement and chaos of moving into their new apartment and the school semester starting up again and hunting down a proper job, Davey honestly forgets about his birthday.

Truthfully, it's never been a big deal for him; birthdays are a little less special when you have to share them, the unfortunate byproduct of having a twin. Then there's the fact that his birthday always seems to coincide with the start of a school year, give or take a week. Celebrating his birthday as a kid always felt like celebrating the end of summer vacation, which no kid wants to celebrate, not even a book nerd like Davey.

The only time Davey's ever gotten excited about a birthday is in those milestone years, where a new age opened up some grand new adventure. Ten, when he was finally in the double digits. Thirteen, for starting junior high and his bar mitzvah. Sixteen, when he got a driver's license that he's rarely used since. Eighteen, legally an adult.

In comparison to that last landmark birthday, on which Sarah had dragged him to a tattoo parlor to get matching tattoos, the concept of turning twenty just doesn't seem like something worth getting worked up about. He'll celebrate next year when he can finally drink at parties with their friends without worrying about getting stopped by a cop while walking home. Twenty-one is a milestone; twenty is just another year.

Davey groans when his alarm goes off, snaking one hand out to smack his phone screen until the sound stops. He stretches, yawning, but when he tries to get out of bed, arms tighten around his torso and drag him back. "Jack, I've got class," Davey says in amusement as the felisian hums and nuzzles between Davey's shoulder blades.

"Do ya gotta?" Jack murmurs blearily. He flicks his tail over Davey's leg like he's trying to hold on there too. "S'ya birthday, I wanna snuggle ya."

"It-" Davey's brow furrows, counting out the date in his head, and he lets out a small, surprised noise. "Oh yeah, it is."

Jack pushes up onto an elbow so he can look down at Davey incredulously. "You forgot it's your birthday?"

"I've never really cared much about birthdays," Davey admits, shrugging. "Besides, it's kind of been a busy couple weeks. I've had bigger things to think about."

"But it's your _birthday_," the felisian replies like that's a solid argument. Apparently, to Jack, it is. When Davey doesn't look impressed by this logic, Jack huffs and rolls his eyes. "You're ridiculous," he says fondly. He scoots forward, slotting himself firmly against Davey's body, and leans in to press a long, lazy kiss below Davey's ear. "But I'm still gonna cuddle ya."

"I have class," Davey reminds him, and then his breath hitches when Jack shifts his focus to that spot at the corner of Davey's jaw that always ruins him. "Not fair," Davey moans even as he tips his head to give Jack better access. "It's only the second week of term, I don't want my professors thinking I'm a flake."

"You're an honor student," Jack says with a laugh. "Ya got plenty other days of class to show 'em how smart ya are, but you only get one birthday a year." Davey gasps and shudders beneath Jack's touch, and the felisian smirks victoriously. "And ya know, I take birthdays real serious. S'a _crime_ not to spoil your boyfriend on his birthday." 

Davey chuckles. "I didn't get to spoil you for yours."

"Course ya did," Jack counters. "Ya got me Harvey." He nods pointedly toward the little bonsai tree that's currently taken up residence on the end of his work table.

"I still can't believe you named your tree," Davey says, glancing up at his boyfriend.

"He's a livin' thing; livin' things have names," Jack says insistently. "Besides, I love you, Dave, but me and Harvey are soulmates." Davey descends into giggles, and Jack takes advantage of his distraction to roll Davey onto his back and insert himself over him. The felisian ducks down, seizing Davey's lips in a warm kiss.

"You're a nuisance," Davey says when he's finally free to talk again. Jack grinds their hips together and Davey whimpers, arching into him. "I'm gonna be late to class if you don't move." Jack snorts, raising an unconcerned eyebrow, and then claims Davey's mouth again.

In the end, Davey misses his first class, but Jack makes sure he doesn't regret it in the least. 

* * *

Davey looks up from his textbook when Jack gets home that afternoon. "How was class?" Davey asks.

The felisian _humph_s and drops his backpack heavily by the door. "I got so much homework already," Jack whines. He climbs onto the bed and flops down, using Davey's back as a pillow. "It's only the second week. How's they givin' out so much homework already?"

"You're a junior, shouldn't you be used to it by now?" Davey replies, but he reaches down to touch Jack's arm reassuringly. 

"Thought it's supposed to be senior year that's worst," Jack grumbles, sulking. "If it's gonna get harder than this, dunno if I'm gonna make it." 

Davey chuckles at the dramatics. "You'll be fine, Jack. You can do this stuff. You're gonna be great at it." 

Jack gives another weary _humph_, but Davey can tell he's actually feeling better by the way his ears relax into their natural position. Rolling onto his side, Jack props himself up on an elbow. "Let's go out," the felisian says decisively. "Get dinner together, do somethin' fun for your birthday." 

"I told you, we don't need to celebrate, I'm fine, really," Davey counters, shaking his head. 

"Sure, but I wanna," Jack says. "And like you said, we've been busy with everythin' going on. Could both use a li'l fun." When Davey still looks uncertain, Jack crawls up to kiss him softly. "Please, c'mon. I didn't get to do nothin' for your birthday last year, lemme at least getcha dinner." 

"We'd barely known each other like a week last year," Davey points out, but he's finding it difficult as always to resist the strength of Jack's pout. "Alright, yeah, let's go to dinner." 

Jack jumps off the bed eagerly, holding out a hand to pull Davey up after him. He barely gives Davey long enough to tugs his shoes on before he's dragging him out the door. "Ooh, you wanna go bowling?" Jack asks, suddenly brightening up excitedly. "I love bowling, that'd be fun. There's that bowling place Boots just started workin' at, we can go bug her." 

"We shouldn't bother her at work," Davey says in exasperation. 

"Course we should," Jack argues. "You realize they gotta wear uniforms there? You imagine Boots in one of those ugly colorful bowling shirts? It's gonna be hilarious!" Davey rolls his eyes, but when he doesn't offer up another protest, Jack recognizes the surrender. (After all, who _wouldn't_ want to see Boots, whose usual wardrobe consists of monochrome and combat boots, dressed up in full bowling kit?) 

They hop a train over to the right neighborhood, trading stories about their classes, and walk a couple of blocks over to the bowling alley. It's a brightly colored building, very conspicuous between the regular brick of its neighbors, boasting a large bowling alley and arcade. Inside is a riot of noise and color, clusters of people milling around, and the steady thuds and clatter of bowling lanes from down the hall. They join the short queue at the front counter, and when they reach the cash register, Jack bursts out laughing. 

"I _will_ hit you," Boots growls venomously, her gray ears folded back in annoyance and fangs bared. Davey's fighting back his giggles, but only just. The felisian girl is wearing a gaudy bowling shirt of hot pink and lime green that's paired with a supremely sour expression. "Don't make me climb over this counter to kill you." 

"Sorry," Davey murmurs, barely keeping his laughter under control. 

Boots flits her ears and offers Davey a glimmer of a smile before her scowl comes back. "I'm letting you off the hook because it's your birthday," she says pointedly. Then her yellow-green eyes snap to Jack. "You, however, are another story." She gets their shoe sizes and fetches the pair of rental shoes for them, telling them which lane is theirs. "Sleep with your eyes open, Kelly," she hisses as they head for the hall back to the lanes. 

"She's seriously going to murder you," Davey says, amused. 

"Worth it," Jack replies with a shit-eating grin. 

It's loud in the long room full of bowling lanes, a constant rhythm of bowling balls and voices shouting above the din. Davey casts a concerned glance at Jack, but the felisian just shrugs, his ears partly tucked back. It's mostly lower frequency noises, the heavy thumps of the balls, and Davey knows those hurt his ears less than high or shrill sounds. 

They wander down the row, counting lanes until the correct number comes into view. At the same time, Davey takes in the cluster of people waiting at the head of the lane, and he stops short. Sprawled in the booth at the top of the lane, a half-dozen of their friends are chatting loudly. They all stand when they spot Davey and Jack, beaming and cheering. 

"Hey, birthday boy!" Race calls enthusiastically. He practically sprints the distance to throw an arm around Davey's shoulders, jostling him. "Fashionably late, as always. Spot says sorry he couldn't make it, by the way, he's workin'." 

"What is this?" Davey asks, glancing from their friends to Jack incredulously. 

Jack laughs, shaking his head. "What? Ain't you ever seen a birthday party before?"

Before Davey can protest, Race drags him over to the table. There's a wave of greetings and teasing comments. Romeo bounds up and sets a sparkly pink tiara that reads "Birthday Princess" on Davey's head, earning him a shove that sends the Asian sprawling into Specs' lap. "You're all idiots," Davey announces when everyone dissolves into laughter, but he can't fight the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"C'mon, don't be a grump," Race says, jostling him again. "No one likes a grumpy princess." Davey smacks him in the face with the plastic tiara in revenge. "A'right, now I'm gonna show you ladies how to bowl. Don't touch my fuckin' corndog."

The group is swiftly pulled into an all-too-competitive game, especially considering that almost all of them are absolutely terrible at bowling. Moreover, the game stretches longer than it probably should, because people keep getting side-tracked with jokes and food, and they forget to pay attention to when it's their turn. Albert falls rather spectacularly on his ass. Romeo has the exact opposite problem and nearly lands on his face in the middle of the lane. Race manages to land a gutterball so hard it actually bounces over into the next lane.

Davey laughs so hard he cries, his stomach aching.

"Hey, order for the princess?" Boots appears at their table, smirking sarcastically and carrying an enormous platter of nachos. Davey glowers and flips off Romeo. Boots chuckles as she deposits the tray on the table, then surprises Davey by ducking in to kiss his cheek lightly. "Happy birthday, Dave," she says warmly. "And if any these punks give ya too much trouble, lemme know. I'll spit in their drinks for ya."

Laughing, Davey nods. "Thanks, Boots." She gives him another fond smile before she heads back to work, pointedly flicking Romeo in the face with her tail on the way.

"A'right, main event," Race shouts grandly. He leans in and, to everyone's amusement, sticks a skinny birthday candle into the top of the nacho platter. It tilts dangerously to one side, weight propped against a pile of jalapenos. Race grins as he holds out a hand and Mush hands him a pocket lighter. "C'mon, Dave, better blow it out quick. Nachos gonna taste nasty with wax on 'em."

Davey feels supremely ridiculous, their entire group watching avidly as he bends in to blow out the single candle. The force of it makes the unsteady candle tip over onto a glob of guacamole, and a chorus of protests go up. "Ah, man, had to ruin the guac of all things!" Albert whines.

"That's what you get for putting a candle in nachos, stupid," Jack points out, snickering.

"Well sorry, this place don't serve birthday cake," Race counters unapologetically. "Here, I'll save you all." Plucking the candle out, Race promptly uses a chip to scrape up the entire scoop of guacamole and shove it in his mouth. "There, stop whinin' and eat," Race says through his mouthful, grinning.

As their friends all tuck into the nachos, Davey leans sideways into Jack's side. "This was your idea, wasn't it?" Davey asks.

"Me? Nah, course not," Jack counters, his left ear twitching the way it always does if he's lying. The felisian must know he's caught because he chuckles and bumps his nose affectionately against Davey's cheek. "I just suggested we get together, have some fun," he elaborates. "Then pizza at the apartment turned to pizza out somewhere turned into this. Was actually Race's idea comin' here." 

Davey laughs and rolls his eyes. "I can't believe you threw me a birthday party," he says. "I thought people stopped doing that around junior high." 

"Are ya kiddin'?" Jack says, eyebrows jumping. "That's when birthday parties start gettin' fun! Who wants to play Pin the Tail on the Donkey when you can play Spin the Bottle?" Davey snorts. "'Sides, you gotta admit, this is fun," Jack says, but beneath his confident smile, Davey can tell there's a hint of uncertainty, a genuine concern that Davey doesn't like it. 

"Yeah, it's fun," Davey agrees, and he pulls Jack in for a kiss. "And hey, at least I finally found a sport where I'm better than you."

Jack huffs with mock indignation, and the best response he can come up with is, "Bowlin' ain't a real sport anyway."

* * *

When they've polished off the food and finished their game - in which Mush totally destroys them all while no one else gets a score even close to the triple-digits - most of them migrate upstairs to the expansive arcade. It's an old-school retro set-up, rows and rows of flashing coin-operated machines displaying pixelated games. There are a dozen skeeball lanes and mini basketball hoops along one wall, and two large air hockey tables. A bored-looking worker is manning a counter where they exchange dollar bills for coins, and there's a prize counter beside it filled with cheap, plastic toys and plushies. 

Their group breaks off into smaller chunks, pairs and trios clustered around separate machines as they challenge each other to matches. Race is howling dramatically that the steering wheel on his racecar isn't registering because that's the only way he could possibly lose to Specs. Romeo and Jack go several rounds in a fighting game, aimlessly jamming the plastic buttons in hopes of managing some great combo. 

Albert suddenly exclaims loudly and launches himself at another machine playing loud, EDM music. Jack recognizes the dance game where people have to follow along with the arrows, and he snorts in amusement as Albert bounds up onto one side. "Throwin' down the gauntlet," Albert calls to them, smirking with his arms wide. "Who's gonna take it up?" 

"I'll do it." Everyone looks at Davey in surprise. Davey just grins, hands in his pockets, and shrugs. "I've played a couple times, I'll give it a shot." 

"You're on. Challenger's choice," Albert says graciously, letting Davey pick the song. Albert sets his difficulty at easy; eyebrow raised sardonically, Davey cranks his up to hard. The rest of their group hovers around the machine curiously, exchanging amused looks as they wait for the inevitable disaster. 

And then, to the tune of some sickeningly chirpy J-Pop music, Davey thoroughly _obliterates_ Albert.

Jack can't help but gape as Davey's feet move in tandem with the tidal wave of arrows on the screen, far faster than Jack can even begin to process them. He would swear later that Davey doesn't blink once during the four-minute song, his knuckles white where he's holding onto the support bar, but there's a faintly devious tilt to his lips. The noise is agony, the high-pitched music coupled with the pounding of feet on metal plates making Jack fold his ears back with a wince, but he can't look away.

More than one of their friends whip out phones, recording the scene, and Jack knows this is going to wind up all over their social media pages. The song ends with a particularly brutal string of moves, and while it's not a perfect score, the small audience that's gathered - more than just their friends now - breaks out in applause. Davey blushes and ducks his head, jumping down to stand by Jack. 

"That was fuckin' insane!" Race says enthusiastically. He shoves Albert's shoulder, laughing. "He fuckin' killed you." 

"You're a robot," Albert says, panting and pointing at Davey accusingly. "That was impossible, there's no way you're a real human and can do that." 

Davey smirks, shrugging nonchalantly. "I played a lot in high school," he admits. He pauses to wipe at a drip of sweat on his forehead. "There was this old arcade not far from school, a bunch of the guys from the soccer team would go by and play. It was good practice for the footwork agility drills and stuff. I can't actually dance worth shit, but that thing? I actually had a high score on the one back home, but that was, like, two years ago now. I'm a bit outta practice." 

Specs doubles over laughing, falling sideways into Race. "Outta practice," he wheezes hysterically. "Dude slaughtered you, and he's _outta practice_."

"Oh shut the fuck up," Albert protests, shoving him. "You do it then, ballerina boy." 

As Specs and Mush hop up to take a turn, Jack hooks his fingers in Davey's belt loops, pulling him closer. "That," the felisian says, grinning, "was the most weirdly sexy thing I've ever seen."

Davey snorts, blushing again. "I'm glad my random party trick does it for you," he teases.

"I mean, literally, you sorta broke my brain a little," Jack insists, and curls his tail loosely around the back of Davey's leg, making his boyfriend shiver. "I hope you're happy. I think you just made me develop a weird new kink or something because that was one-hundred-percent nerdy, but I also really just wanna tackle you onto that air hockey table."

"Jack!" Davey gasps, whole face flushing red, and he shoves Jack back a step. He's struggling to keep up the indignant expression, though, his smile sneaking through. "Not in front of the kids," he adds, nodding toward a cluster of elementary grade kids playing skeeball with a smirk. Jack dissolves into laughter. 

* * *

It's late into the evening by the time they make it back to their apartment, both of them tired, full of pizza and nachos, and sore from laughing. Once they're inside, Davey snags the felisian by the wrist and drags him into a hug. "Thank you, Jacky," he says fondly. "That was probably the best birthday party I've ever had." 

"I'm glad," Jack says. He nuzzles the side of Davey's neck before he draws back to meet his gaze. "I toldja, boyfriends get spoiled for birthdays. 'Specially when it's you." Davey's heart flutters the way it always does when Jack gives him that look of burning sincerity. Jack's ears flick up. "Oh, speakin' of, got one last thing," he says. 

"Jack," Davey protests as the felisian crosses the apartment. "You already did so much, you didn't need to get me something too." 

"Lucky for you, I didn't _get_ it," Jack retorts with a smirk. "Made it." He retrieves a canvas from the back of his pile of finished paintings, and his expression is timid when he carries it over with the back turned so Davey can't see it yet. "I just - it ain't my normal style, but ya gave me the idea, and I wanted to roll with it. Thought you might like it."

"You did a painting for me?" Davey asks breathlessly. The felisian opens and closes his mouth twice, eyes uncertain and ears tucked back nervously, before he finally just flips the canvas around. Davey's gaze pans over the painting in awe. 

It's a beach scene, the center dominated by an endless expanse of blue water. Except, the foamy tops of the waves are going in different directions, spreading out in a circle like ripples. Arcing up the right border is a narrow beach of red-brown sand and a white stone wall with squared parapets. There's a single, pale hand resting on the stone, the arm disappearing off the edge of the canvas. Exactly opposite, spanning up the left side, a stretch of red and steel bridge cables are above tan dirt, and there's a hand curled loosely over a round red beam. 

"Jack," Davey exhales, unable to pull his eyes off the scene. 

"Was thinkin' I'd call it 'Same Waters,' like that thing you said when you was gone in Africa," Jack scrambles to explain, his accent surging in thick to betray his anxiety. 

Davey's breath is caught in his throat as he takes in the details of the painting. Two figures, waiting on either side of a vast sea. Him in Accra and Jack in New York, staring at the same ocean from opposite sides of the world. "It's _beautiful_," Davey says reverently, feeling tears sting at the corners of his eyes. "Jack, this is - it's amazing. I don't even know what to say." 

The felisian licks his lips nervously, but his ears ease up a little. "Yeah? Just thought - was a big thing for us. Thought would be good to remember that, ya know? 'Cause if we can survive that, can survive anythin', right?" 

There's no stopping the deliriously moved tears that escape as Davey hauls Jack in for a kiss. "Anything," he agrees when they're both panting and breathless. "I love you so much." 

The last of the uncertainty fades from Jack's face, and he smiles fondly. "Love you too, Dave." He fidgets with the frame of the canvas and meets Davey's gaze. "So ya like it?" 

"I love it," Davey says genuinely. "It's incredible. Can we put it up?" 

"That's what ya do with paintin's," Jack replies playfully. 

"Not you, you leave 'em stacked in the corner," Davey points out with a laugh. 

The felisian huffs and rolls his eyes. Leaning in, he nudges his nose to Davey's and then gestures around the room. "Your present, you pick a spot." 

Davey beams, looking around appraisingly, trying to decide where it will look the best. Does he want it above their bed, so he can see it whenever they go to sleep? Or does he want it over their tiny kitchen table where he can look at it every meal? Of course, when he thinks about it, it doesn't really matter too much - their studio apartment is small and open enough that no matter what wall they hang it on, it will be visible from anywhere. 

"Here," Davey says decisively, pointing to the wall above the thrift store sofa they bought last week. 

"Yeah?" Jack asks, but he doesn't debate it at all. The felisian retrieves a nail and hammer from the tiny toolbox hidden in the cupboard beneath the kitchen sink, and then he stands on the sofa. Holding the nail to the wall, he glances over his shoulder for confirmation and then knocks the nail into the wall. Jack drops the hammer onto the sofa cushion and carefully mounts the painting on the nail, letting Davey guide him through getting it centered and level. Once Davey declares it good, Jack hops down and returns to his side. 

"It's perfect," Davey says, gazing up at the canvas above their sofa. "And now it'll be the first thing I see anytime I come home." Jack looks over his shoulder, obviously realizing that the place Davey picked for the painting is directly opposite their front door. Heart pounding, Davey hugs Jack again. "Thank you, I love it so much. This is the best." 

Davey can feel the heat of Jack's blush where his neck burns red, but the felisian just hums and holds him closer. "Only the best for my fella," he says affectionately. "Happy birthday, Davey." 

Smiling, Davey pulls back to kiss his boyfriend. "You know, I've never been into birthdays, but if they're gonna be like this, I could be convinced." 

Jack laughs brightly. "Knew you'd come 'round." 

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: All together, this series is officially over 250 pages long now, and 135k words. You guys are enabling my self-indulgence _way_ too much, and I love you for it.
> 
> Also, I finally got to sneak in my headcanon of Davey being a DDR wizard, and I'm so happy. Seriously, I know a couple soccer players and they are hella good at DDR. It's crazy.


End file.
